


Hat Trick, or: The Totally Accidental and Completely Unintentional Seduction of Carter Hart

by GreyMichaela



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, I'm leaning into my morosexuality, M/M, Multi, Obliviots in love, Pats can maybe... barter for one, Pining, TK can't buy a clue, please do not use this fic as life advice, the E rating is more for the dirty talk than the actual acts, turns out writing stupid people being stupid is really fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:42:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21946774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyMichaela/pseuds/GreyMichaela
Summary: TK shakes his head, forcing himself to focus. “I have you.”“Duh.” Nolan tries to lower his head but TK fends him off.“Claude has Ryanne,” he says, somewhat desperately. “And like... Joel’s got Morgan. And Ghost—he’s got Gina.”Nolan props himself on one elbow. “You’d better get to the fucking point.”“Who does Carter have?”Nolan stares at him for a long moment and TK raises his eyebrows, doing his best to convey what he’s trying to say through facial expressions alone.“Youasshole,” Nolan says, and rolls off him.TK sits up as Nolan grabs his clothes and yanks them on, muttering under his breath.“We’re still having sex later, right?” he asks.Nolan snaps a glare at him. “You’ll be lucky if we have sex again thismonth. Now get dressed.”
Relationships: (established), Carter Hart/Travis Konecny/Nolan Patrick, Travis Konecny/Nolan Patrick
Comments: 26
Kudos: 504





	Hat Trick, or: The Totally Accidental and Completely Unintentional Seduction of Carter Hart

**Author's Note:**

> "I don't write Flyers fic!" I frantically tell myself, but it turns out that when you love someone who's a Flyers fan, you're willing to break your own rules. 
> 
> Merry Christmas, Seb, your existence makes mine so much brighter. Someday I will hug you for real.
> 
> (Real people, work of fiction, etc.)

It’s not exaggerating, TK thinks, to say that everyone on the team would die for Carter. No exceptions. Even Claude at his grumpiest wouldn’t hesitate to hurl himself in front of anything—or anyone—threatening Hart. 

So when a fucking Penguin—TK doesn’t see who, all he sees is the hated yellow and black—blows a tire and goes skidding right into Carter, taking him down with him, TK doesn’t even hesitate. He launches himself into the tangled heap of players, throwing punches with wild abandon. He’s vaguely aware of Patty right next to him, lips pulled back in a feral snarl as he drags the offending player out of the scrum by an ankle.

Luckily for the player, the ref blows his whistle before more violence is inflicted. It’s Hornqvist, because of course it is, lip bleeding and teeth stained red, but laughing as he’s pulled away by another Penguin. TK wants to punch him again but Carter touches his arm. When TK glances at him, Carter shakes his head.

Scowling, TK skates back to the bench. He’s sitting next to Nolan, who looks just as unhappy, glowering at the Pens currently on the ice.

It’s not just the Pens though. TK feels the same violent surge of protective fury when a Sabre jostles Carter, when a Duck—a fucking  _ Duck— _ trips him and Carter falls awkwardly. He’s favoring his right knee when he gets up, and TK does his best to rip the Duck’s head off with his bare hands. He’s not even sure who it is—Getzlaf, maybe. So he probably deserves it in any case, he tells himself once he’s sent to the penalty box.

Claude finds him after that game, a worried frown creasing his brow. TK’s still annoyed, yanking on his gameday suit and muttering under his breath. The buttons won’t  _ cooperate  _ and TK is about to throw the entire damn suit away. 

“A word,” Claude says, and it’s not a request. 

TK follows him sulkily into the hall. He knows what’s coming. 

Sure enough, Claude folds his arms and fixes him with a gimlet stare. 

“What the fuck. Was that.”

“What was what?” TK tries, and somehow Claude’s glare gets even more terrifying. TK folds immediately, grateful there aren’t witnesses. He rubs his palms on his thighs. “He hurt Carter,” he says, and Claude’s eyes soften. 

“Doesn’t mean you’re allowed to kill him,” he points out, but his voice no longer threatens immediate dismemberment. 

“Says you,” TK mumbles. He’s already making plans to find the player and enact some vengeance on his own time. 

“Says the  _ law,”  _ Claude snaps. “You go near him and you’re benched next game, got it?”

TK sputters but Claude’s glare is unyielding. 

“Fine,  _ fine,” _ he snaps, tossing his hands in the air. “Can I go now?”

“As long as it’s not in the direction of  _ any _ Ducks player, I don’t care what you do.”

What TK’s going to do is go home and irritate Patty into having sex with him, but Claude doesn’t need to know that. He gives him a half-shrug that means  _ I won’t go looking but if I happen to run into one of the team all bets are off, _ and somehow Claude gets it. 

He mutters something in French and waves him away. TK takes the out and escapes before Claude changes his mind.

_ “Now?” _ Nolan asks incredulously. They’re both sprawled gracelessly on TK’s grungy couch, TK’s feet tucked under Nolan’s unfairly muscular thigh. He frees one and digs it into Nolan’s quadriceps.

“C’mon,” he wheedles.

“We just lost to the Ducks,” Nolan snaps. He takes a swig of beer and TK shamelessly enjoys the way his throat works as he swallows. “Stop  _ ogling _ me,” Nolan says when he lowers the beer bottle.

“Stop being so hot,” TK counters.

This makes Nolan choke on his beer and TK grin smugly. He rolls to his knees and crab-walks across the dubiously lumpy cushions to swing a leg across both Nolan’s thighs.

Nolan glowers up at him as TK settles in place and takes another swig of beer. When TK kisses him, he tastes like Miller Lite and pepperoni pizza. TK would die before admitting it works for him. Nolan rests his huge hands on TK’s thighs, pulling him closer, and TK smiles into the kiss.

“You’re the worst,” Nolan grumbles when they part for air.

TK wriggles in place, making Nolan’s eyes cross slightly. “We should be naked,” he announces.

Nolan rolls his eyes but pushes TK off his lap so he can drag his sweats off. “Still the worst,” he mumbles, reeling TK back in with one long arm.

TK loves sex with Nolan. He loves everything about Nolan, really, except for maybe that horrible mustache he tries to grow in November and the way he douses his sushi in soy sauce and god, his taste in beer, and those weird plaid suits, and the way he forces TK to watch rom-coms with him, and how he can’t enunciate to save his life—

The point is, TK loves Nolan. Mostly. He also wants to punch Nolan on an almost daily basis, but he wants to punch him less than most of the general population. That’s got to count for something. And he doesn’t. Punch Nolan, that is. He thinks that  _ definitely  _ counts for something.

“‘M I fucking boring you?” Nolan growls, and tips them over onto the couch. TK lands on a particularly obstinate lump but Nolan’s on top of him, Nolan’s biting possessive marks into his throat and down his chest, and TK decides the lump is unimportant.

Nolan’s moving down his body, and TK is absolutely on board with this development when something occurs to him.

“We lost,” he says out loud.

“No shit, Sherlock,” Nolan mutters, and bites his hip.

TK yelps but refuses to be distracted. “No, I mean… Patty, goddammit, listen to me.”

Nolan lifts his head. His cheeks are pinker than ever, hair a tousled cloud around his face, and TK forgets briefly what he was going to say. 

He shakes his head, forcing himself to focus. “I have you.”

“Duh.” Nolan tries to get closer to TK’s cock, but TK fends him off.

“Claude has Ryanne,” he says, somewhat desperately. “And like... Joel’s got Morgan. And Ghost—he’s got Gina.”

Nolan props himself on one elbow. “You’d better get to the fucking point.”

“Who does Carter have?”

Nolan stares at him for a long moment and TK raises his eyebrows, doing his best to convey what he’s trying to say through facial expressions alone.

“You  _ asshole,” _ Nolan says, and rolls off him. 

TK sits up as Nolan grabs his clothes and yanks them on, muttering under his breath.

“We’re still having sex later, right?” he asks.

Nolan snaps a glare at him. “You’ll be lucky if we have sex again this  _ month. _ Now get dressed.”

TK scowls but scrambles to obey.

Carter opens his door and stares at them. There are dark circles under his eyes and his hair is a mess, like he’s been running his hands through it.

“Hi!” says TK brightly.

Nolan elbows him. “Can we come in?” he asks Carter, who shakes his head, but it’s not refusal. He steps aside and TK and Nolan tumble through into Carter’s living room. There’s a pizza box on the coffee table, and TK dives for it immediately.

“Supreme, fucking sweet,” he says approvingly through a mouthful.

Carter closes the door. “Why are you here?”

“B’cuz y’re alone,” TK mumbles.

Nolan shoots him a death glare and turns to Carter. “It was a brutal fucking loss, man. You shouldn’t be by yourself right now.”

“I’m fine,” Carter snaps. He stomps toward his kitchen, everything in his bearing screaming  _ don’t touch me. _

“Bring me a beer!” TK hollers, because he has no idea how to read a room.

Nolan sits down beside him and tugs the pizza box closer. “I will never understand how you haven’t been murdered yet,” he mutters.

Carter reappears with three beers and a thunderous scowl before TK can reply. He passes them out and flops into the chair next to the couch, stretching out his long legs.

“I don’t need you,” he tells the beer.

“Your puppy eyes say otherwise,” TK says.

Carter sputters and glares. “I do  _ not _ have puppy eyes.”

“Relax, I think they’re cute.”

Carter opens and closes his mouth, blinking. 

“Chel or movie?” Nolan asks in the silence.

Carter pulls his eyes from TK and focuses on Nolan. “Uh. I guess—movie?”

“Cool,” TK says. He shoves the last bite of pizza in his mouth and scoots away from Nolan just enough to make a Carter-sized space, then pats the cushion. “Get in here, bitch.”

Carter looks like he’s been run over by a tornado. TK’s seen the look before. When he sets his mind to something, he’s very rarely unsuccessful in achieving his goal.

Sure enough, Carter stands up and smooths out his very ugly pajama pants, with  _ bananas _ all over them—TK manfully suppresses a chirp and personally thinks he deserves a medal for it—as Carter steps over TK’s legs. He eases himself onto the cushions between the two of them, and TK promptly slides closer, until they’re pressed together from hip to thigh. He’s pleased but not surprised to see Nolan doing the same thing on the other side.

They go with a rom-com because Nolan is a fucking  _ sap  _ and he’s been talking about seeing this movie for like a month and okay, maybe TK is a bit of a sap too, because when he suggested it, Nolan lit up and TK had to turn away and pretend to cough.

Halfway through, TK’s getting pretty sleepy. Carter’s shoulder is a perfect spot to rest his cheek, so he does, turning on his hip and tucking one shoulder under Carter’s arm. He drapes his own arm across Carter’s stomach and finds Nolan’s hand, slipping their fingers together. Carter lets him wriggle around until he’s in position, a bemused expression on his face, and TK sighs happily once he’s finally situated. 

He’s almost asleep when Carter speaks, voice hushed.

“You guys—I thought you were like. Together.”

“We are,” Nolan murmurs, matching his tone.

“Then why—”

TK’s eyes are closed, but he imagines Carter is probably gesturing at the way TK’s clinging to him like a spider monkey.

“You ever try telling Teeks not to do something he wants to do?” Nolan says dryly.

“I mean, fair, but like….” Carter trails off. “He’s… with you?”

Nolan hums. 

“That’s not helpful,” Carter says.

“Well, what do you want from me?”

“I want to know why you guys showed up at my front door. Why you’re insisting on spending time with me. Why TK’s fucking  _ cuddling _ me.”

“Because cuddling feels nice,” TK says without opening his eyes. “Stop being a whiner and watch the stupid movie.”

“S’not stupid,” Nolan protests.

“It’s almost as stupid as you are,” TK says, and rubs his cheek against Carter’s pec, producing a strangled noise. “Now shut up and let me sleep.”

The silence is offended, but it’s silence, and TK falls asleep with a smile on his face.

“So I’ve been thinking,” TK announces three days later.

Nolan lifts one eyebrow and TK glowers at him briefly for showing off.

“It’s not right Carter’s single,” he forges on.

Nolan’s other eyebrow joins the first. “You planning to fix that? Set him up with some hot blonde?”

For some reason, this makes TK’s stomach twist, hot and possessive. It takes him a minute to find the thread of the conversation again, and from the wry set of Nolan’s mouth, his reaction didn’t escape him.

“My  _ point,” _ TK says, slightly desperate, “is that Carter shouldn’t be alone.”

“Okay….” Nolan takes a bite of ice cream and waits.

“So we should find him someone,” TK says. He ignores the way his stomach twists again at the thought, waiting for Nolan’s response.

It’s a while in coming. Nolan likes to take his time before he speaks, ‘get his thoughts in order’ or whatever—TK wasn’t really listening when he explained it.

“What are you thinking, setting up a profile on a dating site or blind dates?”

“Do  _ you _ know anyone good enough for Carter?” TK demands.

“Dating site it is,” Nolan grumbles.

They manage to do it without Carter catching on, through some miracle—probably because Nolan masterminds it. They also manage to get Carter to the restaurant for the first date, some guy named  _ Bradley— _ TK hates him already. Their plan is in place—TK’s going to lure Carter to the table, wait for Bradley to arrive, and then think up an excuse and make a quick getaway. 

While he waits, he’s scrolling through Bradley’s Instagram and he is  _ not _ impressed. It’s all selfies from the gym, bulging veins and dripping sweat.

_ He probably talks about his gains and protein and like, muscle milk or some shit, _ he texts Nolan. Nolan’s tucked in the back of the restaurant, hiding behind dark glasses and a large menu, and his reply is swift.

_ We picked him together, quit bitching. _

TK twists to glower over his shoulder in Nolan’s general direction just as Carter appears.

“Oh,” TK says, whipping back around and nearly falling off his chair. “Hi. Um. Hi!”

Carter eyes him. He’s wearing khakis and a shirt that’s a ghastly shade of pink. 

“You look nice,” TK tries, still off-balance. “I mean, that shirt is ugly as fuck but  _ you _ look nice.”

“It’s salmon,” Carter says absently, still looking at him as if trying to figure out a particularly vexing puzzle.

“Salmon’s a fish,” TK says, as Carter finally sits down. “It should  _ never _ be a color.”

“What are we doing?” Carter asks.

TK nearly drops his water glass. “Uh. Having dinner? You eat dinner, right?”

His joke falls flat. “Not like this,” Carter says. “Not in a nice restaurant, just the two of us. Where’s Nolan? Why are we alone? Why does this feel like a date, Teeks?”

“Carter?” The voice is unfamiliar, and TK is almost relieved to look up and see Bradley—God,  _ Bradley— _ standing next to the table, smiling at Carter. His hair is slicked back and his shirt is two sizes too small and TK immediately ratchets up the hatred to eleven.

“Yes…” Carter says warily. “Can I help you?”

“I’m Bradley,” the douche-lord says, and actually runs a hand over his hair as he flashes a smile at Carter, who just blinks.

“Should I know who you are?” Carter asks, and TK should absolutely not be delighted by how Bradley’s smile slips.

“Well, I  _ thought _ we were having a date tonight,” Bradley says.

**Five minutes later**

_ “I can’t believe you!” _ Carter’s hair is on end from where he’s been yanking on it, eyes wild. “What the  _ fuck _ were you thinking?”

Nolan steps in front of TK, who appreciates his protective instincts but also he can take care of himself, thank you, so he shoves Nolan sideways to face Carter head-on.

“I was thinking—”

_ “We _ were thinking—” Nolan interjects, and TK acknowledges that with a nod.

“We were thinking it’s not right that you’re alone.”

Carter stares at him, mouth open. TK thinks privately it’s also not right that he still manages to be attractive with an expression that dopey.

“And you thought you could just decide that for me?” Carter finally says.

“I mean,  _ you _ weren’t doing anything about it,” TK points out.

“Maybe I don’t  _ want _ to!” Carter shouts, and TK takes a step back.

“But you shouldn’t have to be,” Nolan says. He hasn’t raised his voice yet, but it carries clearly across the small alley—they were kicked out of the restaurant when Carter started yelling.

Carter switches that laser focus to him and TK is meanly pleased to see Nolan take a step back too.

“That’s not your decision to make,” Carter snarls. His voice is furious, but his eyes—TK doesn’t ever want to see him look like this again. “I’m fine,” Carter continues. “I’m fucking  _ fine, _ and you don’t get to try and fix what’s not broken anyway.”

He stalks away without looking back, shoulders hunched.

“So we’re obviously not listening to him, right?” TK says once Carter’s gone.

“Obviously,” Nolan says. “Let’s go home, I want to have sex.”

But TK can’t settle, even once Nolan’s got him naked and in the actual bed instead of the medieval torturecouch. He keeps thinking about Carter’s eyes, and the way his hands had trembled and he’d shoved them in his pockets to hide it.

“Focus,” Nolan suggests, and sucks a mark into TK’s collarbone.

“Sorry,” TK says. He rolls them so he’s on top and does his best to concentrate on Nolan and the reactions he can pull from him.

After, Nolan pushes TK sideways, off him. TK goes bonelessly, flopping like a landed fish half on Nolan, half on the bed.

“Gnuh,” he says into Nolan’s arm.

“You think Carter’s okay?” Nolan murmurs.

“Flrg,” TK mumbles.

“Yeah, but he was pretty upset. I’m just… worried, I guess.”

TK bites Nolan’s very excellent bicep, because his voice still isn’t working, and Nolan pats his head absently. “We’ll find him someone.”

TK’s glad his face is still buried in Nolan’s arm so his expression isn’t visible.

They decide, after that, to try a different approach. Clearly blind dates were a terrible idea, so Nolan suggests an ‘accidental’ meeting.

Laura is athletic, brunette, and never stops moving. She ‘runs into’ Carter outside his favorite coffeeshop and makes him spill his coffee. She’s apologizing before he picks up the empty cup, dragging him back into the shop where TK and Nolan are huddled in the corner, peeking over a newspaper, to buy him a replacement, talking the entire time.

Carter looks faintly dazed, but he smiles at her, and when she writes her number on the coffee cup before handing it to him with a flourish, his smile widens.

TK sneaks a glance at Nolan, who looks about as thrilled as TK feels, which is to say, not at all.

They manage to wait four whole days before TK breaks. He sits down next to Carter as he takes off his pads and bumps him with an elbow.

“What,” Carter says flatly.

“Oh come on, you’re not still mad about the restaurant thing, are you?” TK says.

Carter’s hair is falling in his face. TK wonders if it’s as soft as it looks.

“You meddled, Teeks,” Carter says, taking off his shoulder pads. “I don’t like meddling. What do you want?”

“I was just curious if you were seeing anyone.”

Carter gives him a deeply unimpressed look. “Would I tell you if I was?”

“Probably not,” TK admits. “But are you?”

Carter sighs and drops his elbow pads beside him. “Not that it will  _ ever _ be any of your business, but no. I’m not seeing anyone.”

“Oh.” TK digests this. He’s supposed to be disappointed, he knows that, but he can’t help the relief that bubbles up under his breastbone.

The next day is a day off. TK welcomes it by sleeping in, draped across Nolan. When they finally wake up, TK gives Nolan a blowjob, loving the way his big body goes taut, how he cups TK’s head with such tender hands, how he’s so careful not to thrust up into TK’s mouth without permission.

When Nolan finishes, TK wipes his mouth and crawls up to curl in against him. Nolan drapes an arm across him and sighs. 

“Let’s go see Carter,” TK says.

“What, now?”

“Well, I was thinking we’d put clothes on first, but yeah.”

Carter just sighs when he sees them on his doorstep. “What now.”

“Get your shoes on, we’re going out,” TK informs him.

“I don’t want to go out.”

“Sorry, was I asking?”

Carter glares at him, but Claude Giroux is TK’s captain. He’s immune to evil looks by now. He brushes by into the apartment and grabs Carter’s shoes, set neatly by the front door.

“I’m not going out like  _ this,” _ Carter protests, gesturing at the banana pajamas.

“Thank God,” TK says. “That means I’m actually willing to be seen in public with you. Go get dressed.”

Still Carter balks, staring at him, and TK raises an eyebrow.

“Do you need help?”

Carter  _ squeaks _ and runs for his bedroom. TK glances at Nolan.

“Well, that was fucking adorable.”

“He’s always adorable,” Nolan says. “Just don’t tell him I said so.”

TK grins and sidesteps closer to him. “You’re kinda adorable too.”

“You take that back.”

“Mm, nah,” TK says, tilting his head and pretending to consider. “It’s the hair, I think, or your eyes, or maybe—”

“Don’t say it, don’t you  _ fucking _ say it—”

“Your  _ adorable _ rosy— _ mmf!” _ Nolan tackles him onto Carter’s couch and TK yelps, breathless with laughter as he twists to get out from under him.

Nolan may outweigh him by twenty-five pounds but TK is  _ wily. _ He gets his fingers in under Nolan’s short ribs, right where he’s the most ticklish, and Nolan squawks, bucking and squirming to dislodge his hold.

Carter coughs from the doorway and they both freeze, then peek over the back of the couch. He’s not smiling.

“Are we going or not?”

TK shoves until Nolan slides off him and gets to his feet. “Hungry?” he asks brightly.

Carter shrugs, which TK decides to take as a yes.

They eat at their favorite diner, the one where the servers know them and one of them slips TK extra biscuits. Carter eyes the grease-spotted menu dubiously, holding it between finger and thumb.

“Don’t be a snob,” Nolan tells him. “Just order something.”

“Pretty sure there’s nothing in this place on our diet plan,” Carter mutters.

“Oh, like you care,” TK scoffs. “I’ve seen your fridge. Don’t be a baby and order some delicious fucking food.”

Nolan’s sitting beside Carter, TK across from them, and TK takes a minute to appreciate the view. Carter’s cheeks are pink from the cold, almost the same color as Nolan’s. His hair is wind-tousled, and he pushes a hand through it in a vain attempt to tame it. Beside him, Nolan’s eyes are narrowed as he inspects his menu, clearly deliberating on what to order. TK loves him so much it chokes him sometimes, and he reaches out to run his foot up Nolan’s calf.

Carter jumps, dropping his menu. “What the fuck—”

_ Oops. _

TK offers him an apologetic smile. “I mean, it was for Nolan, but he won’t mind sharing.”

Nolan glances up. “Sharing what?”

“I just accidentally felt up Carts,” TK says, returning to his menu.

“Oh. Sure man, go for it.”

Carter sputters and picks up his own menu, focusing on it with an almost desperate concentration.

After breakfast, they stand huddled on the sidewalk, shoulders hunched against the wind, and discuss what they want to do next.

“Something indoors,” Nolan snaps.

“You’re from Winnipeg,” TK says, giving him a judgmental look. “Shouldn’t you be better at handling the cold?”

“Shut the fuck up and get us inside,” Nolan growls.

To TK’s surprise, Carter starts walking. Nolan and TK share a baffled look and hurry to catch up.

“Where we goin’, Hartsy?” Nolan asks. 

Carter doesn’t answer.

Twenty minutes and a cab ride later, they stare at the steps in front of them. 

TK is the first to speak. “The  _ art _ museum?”

“It’ll do you good,” Carter says. “Culture or whatever.”

TK shoots a glance at Nolan and immediately does the Rocky run, singing Eye of the Tiger at the top of his lungs with Nolan hot on his heels as they charge up the steps. They make it to the top and dance in place, hands in the air, as Carter walks right past them into the museum like he’s never met them before in his life.

Nolan grins at TK, who grins back. TK wants to kiss him but Nolan’s not big on PDA anyway, so instead they head inside, where they discover Carter waiting for them with a disgusted look on his face.

“Are you done being stupid?” he demands.

TK scoffs. “Have we met?”

Nolan brushes by them to buy the tickets, jostling TK and knocking him forward a step into Carter’s arms. Carter makes a startled noise and catches him. He’s stronger than he looks, setting TK back on his feet like he weighs nothing at all, and TK squeezes his bicep appreciatively.

“Nice.”

Carter  _ blushes, _ red staining all the way up to the tips of his ears, and he snatches his ticket from Nolan, who’s reappeared, and spins for the entrance.

“Now what?” Nolan asks, sounding resigned.

TK shrugs. “He’s jacked, man. I’d have to be dead to not appreciate it.”

“Do you have to make everything weird, though?” Nolan asks as they hand their tickets over and follow Carter into the museum proper.

TK rolls his eyes. Clearly, that question isn’t even worth answering.

By the time they catch up to Carter, he seems to have regained his composure. He’s staring at a painting on the wall, brow furrowed and head tilted.

TK looks at it too. It’s two men and a skeleton, the skeleton holding an extra skull in one bony hand as he raises some weird contraption in his other hand and stares at the man pounding one back.

“Where’d the extra skull come from,” TK wants to know.

Nolan looks baffled, inspecting the painting more closely like it will provide answers.

“Like was it a two-for-one?” TK persists. “Or like… a backup? Is he holding it for a friend? And what’s that doohickey in his other hand?”

“It’s an  _ hourglass,” _ Carter hisses. “And a metaphor. And you’re an  _ idiot.” _

“We already knew that, though,” TK points out. “I wanna know about the skull. Why’s he—Carter? Carter, come back, where are you going, goddammit—” 

He has to run to catch up, which always makes him grumpy, and finds him shoulder-to-shoulder with Nolan, staring in horrified fascination at a collection of vintage dolls. 

“Nope,” TK announces, and drags them both away.

They spend several hours wandering the exhibits. Carter takes to reading the placards aloud. “Because you can’t read,” he tells TK, who nods amiably.

“Right on, hit me with that art knowledge.”

Carter sighs but TK can see the corners of his mouth twitching as he turns back to look at the display. Nolan elbows TK while Carter’s looking away.

“He’s looking better,” he whispers, and TK gives him a stealthy thumb’s up. 

They both jerk to attention when Carter starts reading aloud, but TK gets distracted halfway through by Carter’s voice, and how he frowns when he reads like he wants to make sure he’s getting it right, and the long line of his throat. TK can see his collarbones under the silky material of his T-shirt, and he pulls out his phone.

_ Whoever ends up with him is gonna be a lucky bastard, _ he sends.

Nolan jumps when his phone buzzes, then gives TK a dirty look when he sees the sender. TK refuses to apologize though, because Carter’s still reading and he’s gotten more than a few appreciative looks from girls and guys both as they wend their way through the room. He raises his eyebrows instead, and Nolan looks at Carter, really  _ looks _ at him with that particular focus Nolan brings to things that are important to him.

TK waits, because Nolan never rushes into anything, and after a full minute, Nolan turns away. He heads for the bathroom and TK immediately follows, crowding into the handicap stall behind him and shutting the door.

Nolan leans against the wall. “What are we doing?” he whispers.

“Helping a friend,” TK says. He’s not sure why his stomach hurts, or why Nolan looks like someone kicked a dog he doesn’t even have. “I’m… we’re… he needs us. He needs  _ someone. _ He’s lonely and if we leave him alone he’ll just mope in his stupid apartment and he’ll never do anything about this situation.” He takes a step closer, Nolan watching him silently, and reaches out to feel the hem of Nolan’s hoodie. “Because… and if you tell anyone I said this, I’ll kill you immediately  _ and _ deny it to my own grave, but I like… love you or whatever.”

A smile flickers over Nolan’s mouth and TK pushes at him.

“Shut up. I do, okay? And I… I want Carter to have that too.”

“Yeah,” Nolan murmurs, and dips his head to kiss him.

“Fucking  _ seriously?” _ Carter shouts, and the door slams.

He’s already out of the museum by the time TK and Nolan catch up, running down the steps with his hand out for a cab.

Nolan with his longer legs gets there first as Carter wrenches the door open.  _ “Wait,” _ he pants, and Carter hesitates briefly, then shakes his head.

“No. I’m fucking done third-wheeling you guys. All you do is rub what you have in my face. Go be stupid and couple-y somewhere else, somewhere I’m  _ not. _ Stop making me feel bad for what I  _ don’t _ have. Just  _ leave me alone.” _

He yanks the door out of Nolan’s hand, slides inside, and slams the door hard behind him.

Nolan and TK stand on the sidewalk, stunned, as the taxi merges with traffic and drives away.

TK waits to have a panic attack until they’re back at his apartment, holding it back with the sheer force of his will even as it claws at his throat. Nolan gets him in the door and kicks it shut behind them. 

“Fuck,” TK chokes, and bends to put his head between his knees. Nolan rubs his back. 

“Breathe.”

TK shoves at him ineffectually as he fights for air. His head is spinning. “We fucked up. Pats, we fucking… did you see his face?”

“Yeah.” Nolan’s voice is quiet. “I didn’t realize it bothered him so much.” 

TK presses the heels of his hands to his eyes. “Why, though?” His own voice is small. “I thought we were friends. I thought he liked being with us.”

Nolan drags him into a rough hug. “We’ll figure it out.”

Except they don’t. Carter doesn’t answer their texts. In desperation, they try calling him, and it rings through to his voicemail—which he never even personalized. TK texts him more, until Nolan takes his phone away.

“No, he has to know!” TK protests, flailing for it.

“He knows,” Nolan says. There’s sympathy in his eyes but the set of his mouth is implacable. 

TK slumps back onto the torturecouch and crosses his arms. After a minute, Nolan sits down beside him, and TK lets himself tilt until he’s resting against Nolan’s shoulder.

“I don’t—” He squeezes his eyes shut and searches for the words. “I can’t lose him.  _ We _ can’t lose him. Because you’re part of me and  _ I  _ can’t lose him and what if he never talks to us again, Pats?”

“We kissed in a bathroom stall,” Nolan says, voice soft. “We won’t lose him over that.”

“And we held hands in front of him, and wrestled on his couch, and I accidentally felt him up thinking it was you, and we  _ hurt _ him.” Tears sting TK’s eyes and he blinks them away hard.

“We’ll figure it out,” Nolan repeats, and there’s nothing for TK to do but trust him.

The next day at practice, Carter avoids their eyes. Maybe it’s TK’s imagination, but he seems to slap down the pucks TK and Nolan send at him a little more viciously, but he says nothing.

TK spends the entire practice trying to get close enough to talk to him, but Carter’s doing his weird goalie thing and TK recognizes that particular expression. If he distracts him while Carter’s in the zone, he may well get a stick to the nuts, and he’ll deserve it.

But he has to do  _ something. _

Giroux swipes at his face with a towel, emerging from it looking befuddled. “Wait,  _ what _ happened?”

“We tried to set Carter up on some dates but they didn’t work and he didn’t like it and then he was mad at us so we just spent more time with him ourselves so he wouldn’t be alone but then Patty kissed me and Carter got mad again and now he won’t talk to us at all.”

“Jesus Christ.” Giroux looks like he got hit by a truck. “You did  _ what?”  _ He holds up a hand before TK can launch back into the spiel.  _ “Please _ don’t tell me again. Just… shut up for a minute.” He rubs his face with the towel as TK shifts his weight impatiently. “So Carter’s upset with you because you’re always together.”

“We’re not… we were with  _ him,” _ TK protests.

“Together,” Giroux repeats. “Being in love—don’t make that face at me—and him having no one.”

“We tried—”

“You’re idiots,” Giroux says bluntly, dropping the towel.  _ “Talk _ to him.”

“We already apologized,” TK tries, and Giroux sighs.

“Grant me patience,” he tells the ceiling. He refocuses on TK and his eyes are almost sympathetic. “Let him talk to you, then. Let him tell you what he wants. You’ve been doing the talking. Now do some listening.”

TK follows him back into the locker room, sulking. Carter’s sitting in his stall, methodically stripping out of his gear. There’s no one next to him, and TK moves before he makes a conscious decision. He sits down beside Carter, who stiffens but doesn’t look at him.

“Carts,” TK says softly.

Carter is focused on a buckle and doesn’t look at him.

“We’ve been doing it my way,” TK says carefully. “The dating, the coffee, hanging out all the time—most of it was my idea. Patty went along with it because for some reason he lets me do stupid shit, but it’s been me. Okay?”

Carter gets the buckle free and starts on another one. 

“I need you to tell me what you want from us,” TK says. Pleads. He’d get on his knees, he thinks, if it would make a difference, if it would make Carter  _ look _ at him. “Please, Carter, you wouldn’t be upset if you didn’t care about us. So tell me what you want. We’ll do it, I swear.”

Carter shakes his head. It’s a negative, but it’s the first reaction TK’s gotten from him, and he seizes on it.

“We  _ will,” _ he says. “Carts, don’t make me beg, man. Just tell me what you want.”

_ “You!” _ The word sounds ripped from Carter’s throat as he bolts to his feet. Everyone in the room freezes, TK included. There’s anguish on Carter’s face as he stares at TK. “I want  _ you, _ God only knows why.”

“Um.” For the life of him, TK can’t figure out what to say.

Carter turns, searching the room until he finds Nolan, standing stock still on the other side of the room. “And I want him,” he says, pointing. 

TK’s never heard of the English language in his life.

Carter spins back to face TK. “Are you happy now? You asked me what I wanted. That’s what I want. I can’t  _ believe _ you made me do this in front of everyone, you  _ asshole.” _ He’s gone before anyone can get a word out. 

Silence, so profound TK can hear his own heartbeat, thundering wildly in his ears. 

“Well, that wasn’t exactly what I had in mind,” Giroux says. 

TK’s fingers are numb. He can’t feel his face. He looks up and Nolan’s there, holding out a hand. TK takes it gratefully and lets Nolan pull him from the room. 

They end up in an empty meeting room, the light from the hall the only illumination. Nolan is still holding TK’s hand, and TK is clinging to it like it’s the only thing keeping him afloat.

“Breathe,” Nolan says.

“Stop  _ saying _ that,” TK snaps. “Did you hear what he said?”

“Of course I did.”

“Why aren’t you freaking out?”

Nolan lifts a shoulder. “Because… it explains a lot. Because now I know he  _ doesn’t _ hate us. Because—” He hesitates. “Because I think I might want him back. And I think you do too.”

TK jerks his eyes up. Nolan looks worried, but his eyes are steady on TK’s.

“But—” TK works moisture into his mouth. “Okay, give me a minute. Just. Give me a minute.”

Nolan holds up his hands and TK takes a step away. His mind is racing, going over every interaction they’ve had with Carter over the past few weeks. Had it been hope on Carter’s face when he’d met TK in the restaurant? Guilt washes through him. He’d  _ cuddled _ with Carter, felt him up, and Carter—

“We have to go get him,” he says abruptly.

Nolan’s smile is like the dawn breaking. “Yeah?” he says softly, and the hope in his voice makes TK’s heart hurt.

He swallows hard. “Yeah. Come here, asshole.”

Nolan nearly lifts him off the ground and TK half-laughs into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Nolan’s broad shoulders to keep himself steady.

“Let’s go,” he says against Nolan’s mouth. “Come on, come  _ on, _ let’s go!”

There’s no answer when they knock on Carter’s door. TK presses his ear to the wood, holding his breath, and listens. There’s a faint scrape, like a foot across the floor, and something softer, like an exhaled breath.

“Let us in, Carter,” TK says loudly. Still no answer. “We’re not fucking leaving until you do, man. I’ll make a scene right here in your hallway until you open your goddamn door. You know I’m capable of it.” He inhales loudly and the door is yanked open to reveal Carter glaring at him. TK deflates and grins at Nolan. “I knew that would work.”

“Go the fuck away,” Carter says flatly, but TK gets his foot in the door before he manages to close it again.

“Ow,  _ ow, _ Coach is going to kill you,” TK yelps, but he takes advantage of Carter’s hesitation to push the door open and hobble inside, Nolan right behind him.

“Are you actually hurt?” Carter asks reluctantly.

TK beams at him. “We need to talk.”

Carter’s face closes off again. “No we do not.”

“Counter, yes we do.”

Nolan takes a step forward. “Carts, can I say something?”

Carter wraps his arms around his body and gives a little shrug. It says  _ I don’t care what you do, _ but TK can  _ feel _ the pain radiating from him, and he’s opening his mouth to speak, not even sure what he’s going to say, when Nolan closes the gap between him and Carter, cups his face in both hands, and kisses him.

It takes TK a minute to realize his mouth is hanging open, and another minute to find the brain cells necessary to close it. Carter’s eyes had gone wide with shock at first but now they’re closed, his body going loose and pliant against Nolan’s. 

Nolan is an  _ excellent _ kisser, TK knows from lengthy experience, but he’s also never gotten to watch him in action, so to speak. He’s gentle and methodical, mapping out Carter’s mouth as he slides a hand around to cradle the nape of his neck. He uses his other hand to pull Carter closer, until they’re pressed together, and TK can’t  _ breathe _ from how hot it is.

“Teeks,” Carter says abruptly, tearing his mouth away. “Teeks, you—”

“Oh fuck yeah,” TK says. He slides right in between the two of them, plastered chest-to-chest with Carter with Nolan pressed up against him behind. Carter looks stunned, like he’s dreaming and afraid to wake up. “Hey,” TK whispers, and Carter’s throat works.

“I thought—”

Nolan’s hands are casually wandering over TK’s body and as much of Carter as he can reach, and TK goes up on tiptoe to plant a careful kiss on the hinge of Carter’s jaw.

“You think too much.”

“Well,  _ someone _ has to,” Carter retorts, and TK laughs out loud and pulls him down into a kiss.

This. This is good. Nolan sighs appreciatively behind him as TK licks into Carter’s mouth. He’s already getting hard, pressing against TK’s ass, and TK’s head is spinning with how turned on he is.

“Bed,” he gasps, but Carter stiffens, lifting his head.

“Is this—”

TK runs a hand over Carter’s chest, waiting for him to finish, and Carter shivers, grabbing his wrist to hold him still.

“I’m not—” Carter takes an unsteady breath. “I won’t be an experiment or… a… fling or whatever.” He looks terrified but determined, and TK honestly doesn’t know how he didn’t realize sooner how much he loves him.

“You’re not,” he and Nolan say in almost perfect unison, and TK leans back against him briefly before refocusing on Carter, who still looks on the verge of bolting. “That’s not what this is,” TK continues. He searches for words, cursing himself. For all that he never shuts up, he’s not exactly eloquent, and Carter needs reassurance TK doesn’t know how to give.

“We love you,” Nolan says unexpectedly from behind him. “I’m sorry it took us so long to figure it out. You’re not something we’re trying for fun. You’re the piece we were missing.”

Carter’s eyes are saucer-huge. He looks at TK, who grins.

“What he said.”

“Fuck,” Carter breathes, and then he’s kissing TK again, hot and frantic, grabbing at Nolan to pull him closer. He breaks away from TK to kiss Nolan, and that’s just fine with TK, because he’s still in a Carter/Nolan sandwich and there’s miles of Carter’s lovely throat to explore. He starts planting kisses up the column and Carter whimpers.

“Okay seriously, bed,” TK says, and this time Carter takes both their hands and pulls them down the hall toward the bedroom.

Inside, he falters to a stop, eyes still wide and unsure. TK pulls at his shirt until Carter gets the hint and bends so TK can tug it up and off. Nolan’s working on Carter’s pants at the same time, and within seconds, he’s naked in front of them, half-hard and goosebumps prickling on his skin.

“Not fair,” he complains. 

“Shut up, I’m admiring,” TK retorts, and takes his time sweeping his eyes over Carter’s body. His skin is marble-white, dotted with freckles, and TK wants to suck so many marks into it. He says as much and Carter blushes, red staining his cheeks and washing down his throat. TK is  _ entranced. _ He’s vaguely aware of Nolan undressing him, but he’s too preoccupied to help, focused on getting his hands all over Carter’s body.

They fall onto the bed in a tangle of limbs and breathless giggles. Carter’s elbow narrowly misses TK’s nose, and TK’s knee catches Nolan in the thigh.

“Ow, fuck!” Nolan pushes TK over and he goes willingly, since this lets him sprawl across Carter’s deceptively broad chest. 

TK props himself on his elbows and grins down at him. “How ya feeling, champ?”

Carter’s eyes are dazed, his lips pink and wet, but the smile that blooms across his face is soft and pure and makes TK’s chest twist. “Good,” he says. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Yeah? What do you want?”

Carter licks his lips and runs a hand down TK’s bicep. “Anything. Just… please.”

TK turns to find Nolan, who’s kneeling beside them. “What are you thinking, Pats?”

Nolan sweeps his gaze down both of them, so predatory it’s almost a physical touch, and TK shivers. “At some point, I want you to fuck Carter while I fuck you.”

“Oh,  _ Jesus,” _ TK says, dropping his face to Carter’s chest. Carter clutches at his arm, making an inarticulate sound of agreement.

“But right now,” Nolan continues, “I kinda want me and you to take him apart.”

Carter makes another noise and TK can’t help leaning in to kiss him again. Then he’s up on his knees beside Nolan, both of them studying Carter’s body. Carter squirms but when he reaches for TK, TK catches his wrist and holds his hand away.

“Not yet,” he says.

“But—”

“You’ll get your chance,” Nolan tells him. “For now, be still.” 

But it’s quickly evident Carter  _ can’t _ be still. He jerks and twitches when TK touches his side, flicks a thumbnail over his nipple, and scratches faint red lines down his abs. Nolan grabs Carter’s hips and presses them to the bed when he rolls them up, searching for friction, and Carter sobs, groping blindly for anything to hold onto.

It gives TK an idea, and he sits up, sliding over the slippery sheets up to the head of the bed. Back firmly braced against the headboard, he spreads his legs and pats one thigh. 

“Come here, Carts.”

Carter manages to get to his knees and crawls over to him, a question in his eyes. TK catches his chin and pulls him in for a quick kiss, then maneuvers him around so Carter’s sitting on the bed too, his back pressed to TK’s chest. TK wraps his calves around Carter’s waist and presses a kiss to the shell of his ear.

“He’s ready for you, Patty,” he says, and Carter shudders all over as Nolan crawls toward them.

TK could get used to this. Carter’s beautifully responsive to every touch, writhing in TK’s arms, his head back on TK’s shoulder and eyes squeezed shut as if he can’t watch what Nolan’s doing without losing it.

What Nolan’s doing is giving him the blowjob of the century, and TK knows just how incredible Nolan’s blowjobs are. He’s honestly impressed Carter hasn’t lost it yet.

“His mouth’s amazing, isn’t it?” he murmurs in Carter’s ear, and Carter moans, hips jerking. Nolan resettles his grip and keeps going. TK rubs his cheek against Carter’s. “He sucked me off yesterday. Held me down and drove me out of my mind for nearly an hour.”

Carter’s jolting rhythmically with every pass of Nolan’s mouth, needy noises falling from his lips.

“He likes to do that,” TK continues conversationally. “Draw it out, see how long I can last. Bet he’s gonna have some fun with you.”

Carter gasps, clutching at Nolan’s head with one hand and grabbing TK’s arm with the other. “Please, I can’t—”

“You can if he wants you to,” TK tells him. “Do you want to be fucked? Do you want his dick in you? He’s so good, baby, you’re gonna feel so good—”

Carter’s back bows as he comes, ramrod stiff and shaking in TK’s arms. Nolan swallows it as TK talks them through it.

“Look at you, so perfect. So fuckin’ pretty. So glad we get to do this, there you go, breathe—”

Carter collapses backward, heaving for air. His head rolls on TK’s shoulder, and TK kisses his cheek. He’s pretty sure a light breeze would put him over the edge at this point, but Carter is soft and pliant in his arms, turning his head and dreamily seeking a kiss, and TK can wait, he thinks as he claims Carter’s mouth.

Nolan sits up, spits into his fist, and straddles Carter’s thighs. TK nudges Carter as Nolan takes hold of himself.

“Look. Isn’t he gorgeous?”

They watch as Nolan strips himself fast and slick with Carter’s come. His chest is flushed, eyes taking on a faraway look as he gets closer, and TK hums appreciatively.

“Never get tired of watching that,” he says, and Nolan groans and comes all over Carter’s stomach. 

He falls forward, catching himself with one hand, and kisses Carter slow and deep. TK takes a minute to appreciate the sight but then he wiggles plaintively.

“Guys—”

Nolan smiles against Carter’s mouth. “Think we should make him wait longer?”

TK gasps in outrage as Carter pretends to think about it.

“Mm, I guess he’s earned it this time.” 

Nolan shifts and Carter slides down. That’s all the warning TK gets before Carter’s mouth is on him, hot and wet and  _ perfect _ and this is going to be over so embarrassingly fast, they’re going to chirp him for  _ months _ off this but TK can’t help it, Nolan’s there, he’s bending over to kiss him as Carter takes him deep, and TK comes so hard his world whites out.

When he wakes up, he’s tucked in against Carter’s side, Nolan plastered against Carter’s other side. TK lifts his head, which weighs about a million pounds, to assess the situation.

“I’ll let it slide for now, but next time I get to be in the middle,” he announces, and he can feel the vibration of Carter’s laughter under his arm. TK smiles to himself and falls asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> [Come talk to me on Tumblr](http://greymichaela.tumblr.com) if that's your thing, where I mostly have emotions about goalies and occasionally talk about my books. Sometimes there are cats, too.


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